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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837590">so... you won't talk?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/drxenhoe/pseuds/drxenhoe'>drxenhoe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anyway here's my first fic in a while lol, Canon Compliant, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hoping to join you guys when I'm not so shy, Interrogation, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Some Bondage, TheKingdomofShipping, lmao... will that ever happennnnnn, no beta bc who tf would i have asked lmao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:48:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/drxenhoe/pseuds/drxenhoe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>stanley can tell that gen isn’t being as forthcoming as he’d like him to be. so he takes him somewhere private where they can talk.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asagiri Gen/Stanley Snyder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>so... you won't talk?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animillion/gifts">Animillion</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SewerWitch/gifts">SewerWitch</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>if you're tagged here as a gift, i'm sorry if it's a ship you're not okay with!! i just wanted to contribute something to the kingdom of shipping writers who made me feel comfortable enough to post this and to thank them for encouraging me to write even more. we haven't spoken, but reading your fics has been more than enough!</p><p>the works that i've read of yours have been outstanding!! thank you so much!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So… You won’t talk?” The taller man stalks around him and Gen has to be entirely honest, he’s not exactly feeling as confident as he usually does. Well, he <i>is</i> feeling at least a <i>little</i> bit of confidence, but that’s only because he always keeps some in the tank. To be caught confidence-less anywhere -- let alone in Stone Age America -- could be devastating to his way of life. Gen can only imagine what his expression must look like, bouncing from forlorn to thoughtful to considerate and back again in the same loop as he distracts himself with thoughts of what it means to be confident. One way or another, he’s not taking this interrogation setup very seriously. </p><p>“Hah. Guess I’ll take that as a no,” the American -- Stanley -- continues. “And, y’know… I was really, really hoping that was the case.”</p><p>The words make Gen look up, gray eyes alert even as they narrow. <i>This guy looks like the type to torture kittens with a smile, so maybe I should talk a <b>little</b> more.</i> But before he can open his mouth to do so, the older man is talking once more, speaking as if there are at least three other people in the room with them -- Gen has to look around for a moment just to remind himself that there is no audience outside of him. <i>Alright, Gen ~ Time to start thinking of a backup plan -- maybe one where we actually find a way out.</i></p><p>
 “When you showed up in the forest, I first noted what a tiny little thing you are. What are you, nineteen? Twenty…? Still… Such a frail-looking guy,” he says as his eyes finally settle down on Gen, cutting through his thoughts of escape. The look they hold makes him reevaluate just how he came to be in this exact predicament. One moment he’d been hooked up to some stone aged lie detector and the next, he was in a room located on one of the upper levels of the complex. The room, no bigger than his modern age walk-in closet, in its entirety is illuminated by a single glass bulb hanging from a coiling of wires, not even a window on any of its bare walls. The only way in or out is the door and while Stanley made it so that the wooden chair Gen occupied is facing it, he also stands directly between him and it. He even has the nerve to chuckle when Gen’s gray eyes flicker to it as if he stands even one millimeter of a chance. Gen can only guess it encourages the man to continue.
</p><p>
 “Thought since you were the first one they sent, you’d be tough -- or, at the very least, a little feisty. Either one would have been a good time for me, honestly, but I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised. You’re more slimy than anything else -- everything that drips from those cute lips of yours sounds like a lie. Which is why you’re here right now, and not in the cozy little cot we have waiting for you to sleep on down the hall. Surely,” he drawls, slowly and suggestively. “There’s something more I can convince you to share…”
</p><p>
Gen has seen a lot of sleazy smirks in his lifetime. Being in showbiz alone has brought him face to face with some of the grossest people known to man. But Stanley is giving a darker energy than he was just moments ago and Gen’s wrists twist gently against the rope bounding his hands behind his back behind the chair just to test the strength of it. <i>Why are my hands even tied behind my back when there’s armrests?!</i> And more importantly, why did every little detail seem painstakingly purposeful? Gen knew that he would need to play things smartly, but he’s realizing that he may have to dive into expert mode when it comes to this new and unknown challenger. 
</p><p>
 “Well~” Gen starts, a toothy grin spreading over his pretty face. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how the whole bind and gag tactic is a little…” He makes a face. “Well, you’re not being as nice to me as you were when I first arrived, Dear Stanley.” The <i>dear</i> gives the man the briefest of pauses Gen’s ever seen from him yet, gone in a flash. And the man’s next actions are even quicker, leaning down to grip tightly at the armrests of the chair as he bends himself down to be at eye level with Gen.
</p><p>
“Oh…?” Comes a deep drawl, laced with a delight that deeply concerns Gen. Just as his close proximity grows more threatening, he’s gone and standing again, looking down at him as his toned arms cross one over the other. It’s his belt that’s eye level now and Gen has no idea why he even considers that, or why he looks… Gray eyes drag upward slowly, over Stanley’s more casual wear now. Simple black pants and a white button down, as crisp as one can get it thirty seven hundred years after the fall of humanity. It actually crosses Gen’s mind that this Xeno character ten billion percent came off as the kind of guy who would reinvent the iron just to make sure his clothes were pressed and fresh -- despite Gen and the Kingdom of Science being his very first visitors in this new world. 
</p><p>
 “Is that all you need to be a little more forthcoming?” Stanley asks. “The ropes stay, but the gag is a decent idea. Maybe after you tell me a little more, we can explore it lil’ further.”
</p><p>
“I’ve been really forthcoming, in fact,” Gen pushes back, forcing himself into calmness despite a growing anxiety. “I even aced your lie detector test. Are you not confident that Dr. Xeno made it reliable enough that a kid like me could pass it so easily…?” He lets a little sarcasm slip into his tone, realizing that any weakness shown seems to be exactly what the man wants.
</p><p>
“Ha. There it is… Some of that cute cleverness from earlier. Let’s get more of that going ‘cuz this isn’t as fun when you’re being shy with me.”
</p><p>
 “Me? Shy? I’m almost insulted, dear Stanley. After all, I’ve told you everything that I know -- I’m not sure someone shy could have made it past that very large gun you accosted me with in the forest…”
</p><p>
“Mm, yeah, see this -- this, I like… Let’s keep this going,” he says, grinning and ignoring Gen’s words completely. “The tone, that look… Is this what you’re normally like, right kid?” He gives another chuckle along with a shake of his head. 
</p><p>
Gen grows more uneasy the more Stanley seems to grow excited by his true colors. Was he showing them a little too much…? Certainly he wasn’t that easy to read. 
</p><p>
 “Right. Let’s get into it, then. Tell me what defenses you have waiting for me when I go to kill your science leader over there. Anything special?” Stanley asks, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves one by one as he asks. He’s rolling them up as he continues to wait for an answer from Gen, and it feels to him like a more serious switch has been flipped. “I don’t know this Taiju guy, obviously, but if he’s anything like X, there’s probably some kind of contingency in place, right…?”
</p><p>
 “Oh, dear Stanley, let’s consider,” Gen starts, figuring a different angle might shift the tides for him a little. “You said so yourself, I can’t really be trusted. I ran off on my little kingdom at the first sight of other living humans. Do you really think they’d trust me with any of that infor—“ His words cut off with a sharp <i>hic!</i> as he’s suddenly taken by the throat, gray eyes widening in surprise as strong fingers squeeze at either side of his neck. <i>Things aren’t supposed to be moving this quickly!?</i> His eyes are wide and confused when they look up to meet Stanley’s gaze, now much darker yet still very amused.
</p><p>
“Y’see, I actually kinda feel like you’re the kind of guy who really gets a rhythm going if someone lets you talk long enough so I think I’m gonna cap you at about five words per sentence.” Stanley doesn’t release this tight grip on Gen’s throat, instead watching him closely with raised eyebrows. It takes him a couple of seconds, but Gen realizes that the man must be waiting for some form of acknowledgment. So he nods twice, eyebrows twisting down with what little room for defiance he’s currently allowed. 
</p><p>
“Ahh, very good boy,” the man purrs, releasing Gen’s neck and flipping that same hand palm up to left his chin with a confusingly delicate touch of his fingertips. Gen recognizes what he’s feeling as gratitude almost immediately and he doesn’t like that one bit. It feels too much in tune with where this seems to be headinh and he hates that it makes him consider telling the man whatever he wants to know in order to avoid that. But Gen knows he’s a smart guy… If he’s reading Stanley the right way, then he’s been waiting for an opportunity to flex this darker side of him. He’s ex-slash-current military, and American on top of that, so Gen has to assume he’s some sort of torture specialist. Those kinds of guys were known to get off on this kind of thing. <i>And dear, lucky me ~ I’m the freshest meat he’s seen in almost four thousand years…</i> He swallows and considers his next words carefully. 
</p><p>
“Might I… Ask if I can—”
</p><p>
 “Aht, aht… First sentence out and you’ve already passed your limit.”
</p><p>
Without warning, Gen feels a forceful flash of knuckles across his face as he’s backhanded with full force. He’s hardly given a moment to register the pain before Stanley’s grabbing him by the face, his cheeks being tightly gripped this time between his fingers and thumb. Then the American is leaning down again, voice low as he speaks. “Your first lesson is that I don’t tolerate disobedience. From <b>anyone</b>,” he adds in a voice so serious that Gen wouldn’t question it even if he could. <i>Is that blood I taste…? <b>Ow</b>...</i> Stanley doesn’t let him look away so he holds his gaze, calm despite taking such a rough blow. The message was clear: the only games to be played and won here were for Stanley and Stanley alone.
</p><p>
That much should have already been clear to Gen when the American had gone from asking him to spill every secret the Kingdom of Science had to give, only to choke him for talking <i>too much</i> just a split second later. Gen’s lip curls, the desire to spit the small amount of blood in his cheek onto the man’s shoes, but he refrains.
</p><p>
“I’ll ask again. That’s a nice boat you all traveled in on. If I got a team to storm it right now, tell me what defenses there are to keep us out.
</p><p>
“I…” Gen considers his word count and his answer, too. Either one could earn him another backhand or worse. 
</p><p>
 “I don’t know… Really, honestly.”
</p><p>
 “Your second lesson is: I don’t tolerate liars.” 
</p><p>
 Gen only has a moment to look up at him with an exaggerated plea in his gaze before he’s backhanded again, this time from the other side. 
</p><p>
 <i>Ah… My beautiful face may scar, dear Stanley,</i> he can’t help but think, priorities scrambled like his brain may very well be if he has to take many more of those.
</p><p>
The questioning goes on for at least an hour longer, with Stanley alternating between slapping him and grabbing him roughly by the hair. Gen realizes twenty minutes in that Stanley would only be disappointed if he told him the truth anyway. And as the minutes tick by, Gen can only wonder just how long it’ll be until the American is only satisfied with alternating his questions with this form of abuse.
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>-------------------------</p>
</div><p>
Stanley looks down at the kid, admiring his work. He’s struck him maybe ten or so times by now, but there’s only a hint of bruising beginning to come in and a smear of redness from where Gen licks at the corner of his mouth every time more blood drips free. It’s a very good look -- he’s been especially careful not to mess that pretty face up too badly. There weren’t too many to go around in this new Stone Age just yet, and this one looked like he’d be fun to break over time. 
</p><p>
“Need a break? You’re a lot quieter than you were when we first met,” he taunts from above, arms crossed as he continues to smirk. He really loves the look he’s thrown, the kid glaring up at him before looking away again. <i>Heh… Still don’t want me to see any cracks, huh?</i>
</p><p>
“I like you, kid. So I’ll let you off easy for the night.” As he thought they might, his words make Gen look up at him again. Stanley smirks. “Suck me off nice and good and I’ll choose to believe whatever lies you’ve been telling since you got here.” 
</p><p>
He obviously wouldn’t really, but Stanley plans to kill their science leader regardless. He doesn’t need the inside information, never did. But it’s been too long since he had a war prisoner of any kind that the chance was too good to pass up getting a rise out of the kid, and a rise out of himself as well. 
</p><p>
Literally.
</p><p>
Reaching into his breast pocket, Stanley takes out one of the cigarettes tucked there and lights it, watching him all the same. It’s fun to watch Gen cycle through the few options that he thinks he has left. So he gives him enough time to come to terms with the fact that there’s really only the one. Slowly, but surely, Gen’s looking up again and the answer is etched in defiance but etched all the same.
</p><p>
“See? I like you, Gen, I’ll be honest. Not only do you catch on quick, but what a pretty fuckin’ face you’re making right now.”
</p><p>
Stanley weighs his options on untying Gen or leaving him as is and decides on the former. Leaving the cigarette sitting between his lips, he continues to puff as he reaches down and begins to unbuckle his belt. He watches as Gen’s eyes follow the movement of his fingers, smirk still curving his lip, and once he’s done, he makes a show of undoing the button and dragging down the zipper.
</p><p>
“Consider this that gag you were talkin’ about earlier, yeah?” And he laughs down at the kid’s poor face.
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>-------------------------</p>
</div><p>

    <i>He can’t be serious…</i>

</p><p>
But when Gen lets his gaze drop onto the half-hard cock that he now finds himself eye level with, it’s quite apparent than dear Stanley is <i>very</i> serious. <i>How often must I find myself in front of dicks I don’t care to see…?</i> Gen wonders, pushing out a not-very-distant memory of himself in the Tsukasa Empire, facing scrutiny from a hovering and deadly Hyoga. His admiration of dear Senku hadn’t been his only reasoning for abandoning his former allies.
</p><p>
<i>Ugh</i>...
</p><p>
Suddenly he’s taken by the hair, his attention yanked just as hard to force his focus back onto Stanley.
</p><p>
“Hey kid, don’t go spacing out on me. It’s definitely not gonna suck itself so take a lil’ responsibility, would’ya?”
</p><p>
Gen’s lip curls in disgust and annoyance which only earns him another chuckle from the man above. He doesn’t know how, but he’ll make sure Stanley dies for this. Some way, no matter what.
</p><p>
“Yeah, yeah… Bet you’re thinkin’ about how you’re not gonna let me get away with this. But you can think more about that later. Open up.”
</p><p>
Stanley says it as if he’s not forcibly bringing Gen’s head forward, his other hand holding himself at the base as he guides the tip of his cock to Gen’s lips and caresses them, the salty pre-cum spreading over them like lipgloss. He allows himself to be grateful that it doesn’t smell too bad, the American’s musky scent clouding his senses almost immediately as he parts his lips for the man. Disgustingly, Stanley lets out an appreciative hum and grips Gen’s hair a little tighter.
</p><p>
 “You do this well enough, and I’ll come quick all over that pretty little face. Nice and easy. Use teeth and I’ll make sure you’re going to bed without a few of ‘em.”
</p><p>
The words are more promising than threatening, not that Gen ever had any intention of making things any worse than they already are. So he parts his lips even wider to engulf the tip of his cock fully, breathing out of his nose as he curls his tongue on the underside. Better to get the nasty pre-cum up and make this a little easier to get through. Saliva is already pooling under his tongue so he lets it mix in with the saltiness, leaning forward to spread it further down Stanely’s decently sized cock. It’s already growing harder and Gen would be smirking smugly at little time it took if he cared to be doing this at all.
</p><p>
And this would be a great time for his hands to be free, but something tells him that’s not going to be necessary if he doesn’t up his performance at all anytime soon. As if on cue, Stanley’s grip tightens considerably in what feels like a warning. So Gen closes his eyes and decides to let his instincts take over -- he’d never been shy about giving head in the modern world, there was no use not using it to his advantage now.
</p><p>
Hallowing his cheeks, he propels himself forward in his chair to take the man deeper, grunting over him as the thick arousal presses further to the back of his tongue. That earns Gen a soft groan from above, causing his eyes to fly open as if he needs to see it to believe that he really heard it. Stanley didn’t come off as the kind of guy to be so forthcoming with any sign of approval or encouragement so Gen can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to goad him into putting in more effort. At least that’s what he tells himself as he curls his tongue underneath, finding a vein to follow as he pulls his head back slightly then dives in again. God, he hates how much he loves giving head -- he doesn’t want to do this. Not with <i>him</i>, anyway. 
</p><p>
“You’re not so bad at this, huh…? Nah -- a silver tongued kid like you has probably had your fair share of dick, yeah?”
</p><p>
It’s the worst time for tears to collect at the corners of his eyes which lift to glare up at Stanley’s words, Gen wishing he had room in his mouth to make a retort. 
</p><p>
“Mm, yeah -- those kinds of faces are my favorite --” Without warning, Stanley pushes his cock the rest of the way down Gen’s throat, groaning louder than he has since this started as he keeps Gen’s forehead pressed against him. Tears fall against his cheek, hands twisting uselessly against the rope that keeps him bound behind his back. He couldn’t tap out if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to give him any verbal cues to ask him to stop either. Stanley would probably want to see that from him more than anything else.
</p><p>
Gen manages to hold out until Stanley pulls back slightly, sharply taking in breaths through his nose before the man is slamming himself down his throat again. He does so again and again - recklessly, though every stroke is precise enough to hit the dead center every time. Gen feels like he might pass out from the sheer force of it alone, but he can hear Stanley’s breath growing shorter with every thrust.
</p><p>
"<i>Fuck</i> -- fuck, that’s good… I’m gonna fill your slutty little throat with my cum, kid...Be sure to swallow it all down or I don’t know when I’ll let you eat or drink again.”
</p><p>
Gen tries his best to prepare himself -- both mentally and physically -- for what he knew was inevitable anyway, but he still chokes as the first rope of hot and salty fluid shoots down the back of his throat. He wants to gag, but Stanley’s words ring loudly in his mind. He wasn’t fit to be the kind of war prisoner who could abstain from eating and play defiant until he was rescued. So he swallows it down like the good little boy Stanley wants him to be, gray eyes looking up at him as he takes the last few final, erratic thrusts to reach his throat. His tears make his lashes stick as he peers up at the American, now pulling himself free of Gen’s lips to let one final rope splash across his bruised and bloodied face.
</p><p>
“Mm...Just like I thought -- this is a good look for you,” the man murmurs as he brushes the tip of his softening cock over pushed out lips. “Clean it up.”
</p><p>
It’s a simple command that Gen follows a little too readily, tongue lapping at the saltiness until he’s had every last drop. When he looks up again, Stanley’s smirking at him, watching for a moment before taking a step back to stuff himself back in and zip himself up. Gen can only look on in disgust.
</p><p>
“Alright, then. I’m a man of my word so I’ll let you keep telling your cute little lies. One way or another -- if they’re all brats like you, then this science brigade of yours doesn’t stand a chance. I’ll have it taken care of by the end of the week.”
</p><p>
The words send a chill down his spine -- or is that Stanley, who now stands behind him with what sounds like switchblade. <i>Dear Stanley, you can’t possibly be thinking of --</i>
</p><p>
His thoughts are cut short when his ropes are cut and not his throat like he’d been beginning to tell himself was a possibility. He doesn’t put up a fight when he’s taken by an arm and lifted out of the chair, letting himself then be walked out of the room and into the brightly lit hall. He wants to shield his eyes from the sudden assault, but settles for squinting instead as he’s taken just a few doors down to what must be his room and shoved inside.
</p><p>
“Sleep tight, kid. I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning. Might even make you earn it.”
</p><p>
And with that awful, no good smirk, Stanley’s gone with the shut of his door. 
</p><p>
And Gen is left alone -- in a room with a cot, a single lightbulb, a bowl of mush, and some water -- to wait until the next time someone wants to <b>talk</b>. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you liked it ! felt a little rushed although i sat on it and checked back/added things over a week or so. i can already feel myself growing more comfy so give me a little time lol.</p><p>just made a new twt outside of my main: @nanamiiin feel free to follow</p></blockquote></div></div>
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